The New Receptionist
by PsychoticSushi
Summary: S3 Universe. What if Pam went through with her and Roy's wedding? How would Jim and Karen's relationship be without Pam? This is what could happen if Emily were to fill her position. Complete with jealousy, crime, love, randomness, and a few light sabers.
1. Who Says I'm A Jedi?

I would like to point out just a couple things.

**One**: this is set in Season 3 universe, but i will not copy all those episodes. That would be boring, would require a ton of work, it's kind of limiting, and to me, would kinda defeat the purpose of FanFICTION.

**Two**: Pam's whereabouts will be explained as the fic goes on. Actually, it's probably explained in the summary, which i haven't written yet. But anyway!

**Three**: I, obviously, don't own The Office. All i own are the words written from here on out, and the character Emily Rockwell.

And** Four**: In Interview Mode, it may look a little confusing at first. Emily's words will be written like **this or this**, Emily's actions will be written like** (this****), **and the camera man's words or actions will be written like this: _words _and (_actions)_

That is all!

**_Enjoy. :)_**

_**

* * *

**__**FIRST INTERVIEW.**_

**Why did I pick Dunder-Mifflin? Hm. Why else? Less gas money, looks boring enough, I've got nothing else goin' for me.****_(shrugs)_ I saw the flier and went for it.**

**_(Shrugs again and scoffs)_ Plus, getting in wasn't too hard. **

**All you gotta do is laugh at all of Michael's jokes, be observant, compliment him, and BAM****! ****_(claps dramatically for emphasis and grins)_ I'm in. **

* * *

Emily seriously thought it would be that simple.

Well, she hadn't even been told what to do yet, but if these cameras were any indication, this was going to be an interesting day.

**_

* * *

_**

**_(Snaps out of thoughts)_ Sorry, what was the question?**

_Your job interview?_

**_(Nervous laugh)_ Oh, right. The interview? It was alright. Kind of weird though. **

**_(Pauses, as if unsure whether or not to say what she was thinking)_ He met me at Starbucks. On a Saturday, last Saturday... **

**_(Grins while thinking back)_ He acted almost like...uh, a secret agent. Yeah! Like he was a secret agent and I was his apprentice or something.**

**_(Nods slowly, tone turns thoughtful)_ It was....odd. _(Face turns serious)_ You'd tell me if there was something clinically wrong with him, right? Like.. _(Points to side of head)_ Y'know, up here?**

_Oh, absolutely. ...You didn't read the whole contract, right?_

**_(Suspicious)_ Just that I wasn't allowed to watch any footage concerning me, I kinda skimmed it...**

_Oh, good! Then yeah, we'd...definitely tell you.._

_**(Awkward and skeptical stare at camera crew)**_

* * *

Once done with that first interview, she was set free, a camera man trailing behind her. Emily hadn't taken three steps out of the room when Michael Scott, her new boss, glanced around frantically before noticing her.

A huge grin appeared on his face, and he made a beeline for her. Literally, a beeline- _Does he always zigzag when he walks?_

"There she is!" He swung his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders, and turned her to face her new co-workers.

"Good morning, everyone! As you know, our receptionist desk is currently empty. This is Emily, who's here to fill it! Although.." He interrupted himself to take a step back from her and turn her towards him.

What with both his hands on her shoulders, it looked like he was sizing her up. "Although she's a bit too tiny to fill it up, I guess. Gee, I think you might need someone to help you reach the top shelf of the fridge!" He, of course, thought that was just _hilarious_, and started laughing.

Emily, on the other hand, just blinked. _Okay, maybe he WAS sizing me up. Literally.._

"If you could loosen your grip _just_ a tad, that would be just _awesome_."

He laughed again and let go, making her stumble a little from the sudden pressure change. "Ha! Witty, I like it! Well, Em, I'll let you get on with your work."

With that, he went about his business. Emily sighed and went to answer the phone, which had just started chiming.

**_OFF-CAMERA_****: ****So, how long did it take the last receptionist to go bankrupt from having to constantly get coffee to stay sane around here?**

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Emily, how can I help you?" She said in a flawless My-Job-Is-Awesome tone.

"Please hold."

She hesitated before finally finding the right button to make the call go through to the right desk.

Maybe this wouldn't be too bad..

_**

* * *

**_

_**FOUR ****HOURS LATER...**_

"Dunder Mifflin. This is Emily. What's up?" She asked dully.

"Please hold."

She hit the button to the stupid desk with much more force than necessary. She heard someone snicker and glanced up.

Everyone was working.

Emily shook her head. "Day's not even over, and I'm already hearing things..."

She was kind of worried on how well she was doing this, even though people say it's the easiest job one could get in an office.

Luckily, she knew she was doing fine with _Michael's_ calls, since the former receptionist left a note about it. "Try not to put Michael on right away, think of it as a practice run; he always does better the second time."

Which, from what she had seen of Mr. Scott, was easily believable. There was a long pause between calls, and Emily had just started to sort the mail when she became aware of a presence near her desk.

Thinking it was most likely a cameraman, she merely glanced up. Then she did a double-take. Some dude with dorky glasses was..._scrutinizing _her.

Emily returned the scrutinizing look. "Can I help you?"

He slid a couple folders across the counter. "Do you know how to properly use a fax machine?" He asked, in a tone that made it seem like faxing was THE hardest thing to master.

Emily took the files and pushed off from the desk, sliding her wheelie-chair across to the faxer. She pressed the buttons, checked the address, and pressed the "Enter" button.

As it started whirring, she wheeled back over to her desk and handed the folders back to him, smiling brightly. "I'm pretty sure I do. Anything else?"

He took the folders, then cleared his throat. "Can you gut a _Branta canadensis_?" He inquired.

* * *

Emily blinked at him, thinking back on previous science lectures to figure out what he was talking about. "...Come again?"

"_Can you_ gut a _Branta canadensis_?" He repeated. He then leaned a little closer, peering down at her. "....Canadian goose, pipsqueak. Can you gut one?"

Emily glared at him. "I dunno. I could probably gut _you_, though. Easily."

He simply held out a hand professionally. "Likewise. I'm Schrute. Dwight Schrute."

She hesitantly shook it. "Emily."

He continued to shake her hand. "Would you mind stating your full name, for the record?"

_What the hell? WHAT record?!_

She just did as the creepy man said. "Umm..okay. Emily Rockwell?"

"By full name, that would also imply your middle name," Dwight said before scoffing. "Amateur."

Emily glared at him. "I don't _have_ a middle name."

He scoffed again. "_Everyone_ has a middle name!"

"Except Emily Rockwell. Which would be me."

He gave her a suspicious look. "May I see your ID, Alleged Emily Rockwell?"

* * *

Emily rolled her eyes and ducked under the desk.

"You won't be able to hide from _security_!" Dwight called out from above the desk, and she heard the distinct sound of silence as all keyboards stopped clacking.

Emily let out an extremely loud and irritated-sounding sigh as she slid back into her chair, waving her bag in his face. "I was grabbing my _bag_, Dwight!"

Most of their co-workers went back to their work as she rifled through her things. Dwight watched her like a hawk.

"Is that also where you stash your _weaponry_, Alleged Emily Rockwell?"

She nodded, rolling her eyed again. "Oh, yes. My compact lightsaber is stashed right next to my liquid nitrogen eyeliner and laser lip-gloss."

Dwight scoffed in disbelief. "No Jedi would _openly admit _the location of their lightsaber."

Emily continued to look for her wallet, which was most likely on the bottom. "Who said I was a Jedi? I stole the lightsaber to add to my armory, since I'm just _that_ much of a lethal rebel."

"You know, Dwight, she _might_ be a secret agent. I'd save yourself while you still can," another voice said from the front of her desk.

She glanced up at the tall guy, then finally felt her wallet by her pinky finger.

Emily swore that Dwight jumped _just _a little as she quickly whipped out her wallet.

Emily flicked her wrist expertly, making the flap of the wallet unfold rather gracefully to show her ID, which clearly read "Rockwell, Emily" on it.

"Hmm...I guess I will cross-examine you further at a later date," Dwight said carefully as he read the name.

He then blinked at her. "This must be fake. There's _no_ _way_ you're 24."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "And why do you say _that_, Schrute?"

The tall guy made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Careful how you answer this one, Dwight. Women don't like their age revealed. I'm sure it's doubly bad if you reveal a _spy's_ age."

"You look nineteen, twenty at most," Dwight said with absolutely no inflection, ignoring the other dude.

Emily folded her arms on the desk, giving him a threatening look. "Actually, I _am_ 24. I'm sorry, but you've revealed too much, Dwight. I might have to silence you somehow."

"You _wouldn't_. Not with all these witnesses," he announced, unconcerned.

She reached into her bag suggestively, clicking a pen. Dwight jumped and held up his hands. "I won't tell a soul, Rockwell, I swear."

She set down her bag and narrowed her eyes. "If you do, I'll find you, Schrute. It's safer to assume I already know where you live, thanks to the Homeowner's Database."

He took his folders and went back to his desk.

* * *

Emily waited until he started typing again to grin, and tall guy let out a low whistle. "Impressive. The last girl who wanted this job quit after three minutes of being questioned by Dwight."

She shrugged. "I guess she didn't know how to have fun with it."

He held out a hand. "I'm Jim, by the way. Fellow 24-year-old."

She smiled and shook it. "Well, I guess you know I'm Emily Rockwell."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. So..does he do that _every_ day?" She asked, lowering her voice as Dwight glanced at them.

Jim lowered his voice as well. "Sadly, yes. In fact, I'd bet twenty bucks he runs a background check on you right after work."

Emily scoffed. "Yeah, but I bet he won't _get_ anything."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You don't know Dwight."

She smirked. "Care to make it interesting? Twenty bucks says he can't find out one of my _darkest _facts."

"Which would be?"

Emily glanced around, then leaned up to whisper it in his ear, causing a camera guy to zoom in. He nodded his approval. "Interesting. I _never_ would've guessed that...You're on!"

They slapped hands and grinned, then he handed her some files. "Oh, and I need these faxed to Corporate."

Emily shrugged and pushed off towards the fax machine again. "No problem."

**

* * *

**

**What do I think of Dwight? I think... **_**(leans toward camera and lowers voice) **_**He's never gonna see this, right?**

_Not legally.._

**Oh, good! Well then, quite honestly, I think he has a severe case of paranoia. Or something like that... _(Gasps excitedly, eyes widen)_ You know, he could be a schizo!**

_What about Jim?_

**_(Shrugs) _He's alright, I guess. Better than Dwight, that's for sure...And tomorrow, he's paying me twenty bucks, so that's even better!**

_But what if Dwight finds out this...'dark fact' about you??_

**_(Laughs) _You guys heard all of that? Eh, why am I surprised? Anyway, there's no way. My name was different and everything then!**

_But...what if he DOES?_

**_(Stares off into distance, then widens eyes)_ You don't think he'll shout it out, do you?**

_(Cameraman laughs) Ms. Rockwell, have you ever even SEEN this show??_

_**(Slowly shakes head) **_**Some of my friends have, but I keep missing it 'cause of my old work schedule and stuff, sooo...**

_(Clears throat) Oh. Well, then....yeah, it's very possible._

**_(Sighs rather loudly, then shakes head)_ Crap. In that case, I might have to actually kill him.**


	2. Emily's Darkest Fact Revealed!

I agree, that Interview Mode thing was a bit confusing. So i took out the underlines! yay!

Thanks for the reviews and alerts, and wish me luck, I'm new to The Office fanfics.

Enjoy. :)

**

* * *

**

**Dwight, ON-CAMERA:**

**I found everything I might ever need to know about this...Emily Rockwell. (Picks up huge binder off the floor, flips it open, runs finger down page as he reads) **

**Name, Emily Rockwell. Date of birth, 12/14/1986. Approximately 23 years of age. (Looks up, smirks smugly) She lied about that one. She's not 24 YET!**

**(Looks back down to read off more facts) Height, 5' 4". Weight, 124 lbs. Hair color, auburn. (Chuckles) And messy. Eye color, dark brown. **

**Born in Halifax, Virginia. Explains her slight Southern accent. Moved to Scranton during her sophomore year in high school. Attended West Scranton High School. Graduated with honors, but dropped out of college her second semester. Reason? Unknown. **

**(Looks at camera, lowers voice.) That must have been when the CIA recruited her. **

**(Licks finger and turns page, then sighs uninterestedly.) The rest is about her roommates and financial issues, facts of that nature. **

**Ah, but listen to this! Her parents are Robin and Joseph Penway. (Looks up again, looking really smug.) That's right. They have different last names, notice? And she's not married. Which leads us to one of the darkest parts of Emily Rockwell.**

_(Obviously curious) Which would be..?_

**(Evil smirk.) Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?**

**

* * *

**

**Emily:**

_Have you watched the tapes yet?_

**(Clears throat nervously, then shakes head.) Umm, I was going to, but...I was busy doing..._stuff_ last night. (Smiles innocently.) Next question?**

_Um...okay. Are you worried about Dwight?_

**(Scoffs) No. The worst that could happen is that he shouts it out. In that case, all I have to do is act like it's no big deal. If all else fails, I'll be in Michael's office defending my honor. Which should be easy! (Shrugs and smiles) So, nope.**

* * *

As she moved around the office, getting it ready for the day, only two people were around; Dwight and herself. Which was in itself a bit weird; he had a huge binder with him.

She could only imagine what was in there, and refused to ask him.

Next were some people she didn't quite know, eventually Jim, and lastly Michael.

_Gee, wish I could come in whenever I wanted_, She thought moodily as Michael entered the office.

He immediately looked for Emily, then grinned. "Hey, it's Emmy!"

She didn't bother correcting him; Jim had given her a heads-up about the nicknames.

She was pretty sure worse was to come. "Hey, Mr. Scott," she said somewhat-cheerfully. That perked him up as he headed for his office.

As if on cue, the phone rang. "Dunder Mifflin, this is Emily."

"This is Jan Levinson-Gould responding to Michael's call, could you patch me through?"

"No problem, hold on."

She put the Jan person on hold and dialed Michael's office. He picked up almost before the first ring went through. "What's up, Emcee?" Was his cheerful reply.

_Did he seriously just make an MC Hammer reference??_

She shook her head quickly. "Uh, there's a Jan on the other line. Something about responding to your call?"

"Yay! Patch her through."

"Okay."

She punched the button before taking a huge gulp of her soda. Her iced coffee was safely tucked in the fridge, being saved for when her job got extra boring that afternoon.

Emily looked up and noticed Dwight smirking at her, but he quickly ducked his head back down to his stupid binder.

This was gonna be a long day.

* * *

After that call, there was a long lull in customers. Emily passed the time by looking for Christmas presents online, and had just opened up a game of Spider Solitaire when the phone rang.

Which introduced a long string of calls to people all over the office, lasting until a few minutes into her lunch break.

Emily swung open the fridge to get her iced coffee, only to find it missing.

_I might have to kill someone...._

"Did you lose something?" A cocky voice asked behind her. She turned around to see a guy giving her a salesman grin, holding up her iced coffee.

"Actually, I just found it. If you don't mind, I'd really like my frozen beverage back," she said innocently.

His smile grew, and he handed it to her happily. "You know, a woman's drink of choice says a lot about her."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?" This was a new one.

"Oh, absolutely. For example. That's Starbucks' Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte. I can assume you're a feisty wild thing," he said suavely.

That made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but she didn't feel like getting on a co-worker's bad side on her second day.

"...Oh. Cool."

"Did you know 'dolce' means 'sweet' in Italian? Ah, Italian. Such a romantic language."

Emily nodded slowly, moving the cup from hand to hand. "....Right...I'm just gonna go back to my desk now."

He held out a hand. "I'm Andy, by the way. You're the new receptionist, right?"

She shook it. "Yeah, I'm Emily. Thanks for...holding my coffee," she said over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.

"No problemo!" He called after her.

A camera guy zoomed in on her as she snickered to herself before taking a long sip of the caffeine goodness only Starbucks could deliver.

**

* * *

**

**Emily:**

**If Dwight knows something, I really wish he'd just mention it already. Every minute that ticks by is one more minute I don't have twenty more bucks! (Huffs.)**

_Yeah, but if he really DOES know the secret, you lose twenty bucks._

**(Scoffs) I'm telling you, there's _no _way he figured it out! It's too...random!**

_Okay, if you say so..._

**(Nods once) I _do _say so, actually.**

* * *

"Ready to lose twenty bucks?" Jim asked casually as she faxed his report. Emily rolled her eyes. "Considering the day's almost over and he's said absolutely _nothing _about my record, no."

She handed the file back to him, and he leaned in a little, lowering his voice. "You know that binder he has over there?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he treats it like his kid.."

"It's got stuff about you in it."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Did you SEE stuff about me in it?"

He flashed a grin. "When he reads something exciting, he mouths the words to himself. I now know your exact height and weight, among other things.."

Emily scoffed. "Prove it."

"You're 5 feet 4 inches tall, and weigh 124 pounds," he said almost immediately, causing her to glance around spastically and motion for him to lower his voice even further.

"Also, you went to the emergency room once to get stitches in the back of your head. Why? You got hit with a rock, which was hidden in a snowball. Need I go on?"

Her nose wrinkled up as she made a face. "Okay, fine! I believe you. But that doesn't mean he found THE most important information."

Jim shrugged, a triumphant grin still on his face. "Like I said, you don't know Dwight."

She waved him off. "Get back to work, Halpert."

**

* * *

**

**Jim:**

**Why do I pay that much attenton to Dwight? Lack of better things to do. Besides...twenty bucks are at stake here. I'm not about to lose against the new receptionist in an area I'm an _expert_ at.**

**(Nods slowly, then grins.) Besides. He's too disturbing not to observe. **

* * *

Unfortunately, Jim was right. It was about five minutes to closing time when Dwight slid some files across her counter again.

"I need some copies."

"The copier's right over there, within walking distance," she said carefully.

"_You _can reach it just as easily...Samantha Penway," he said ominously.

Emily reflexively gasped. "Holy crap..you really _did _figure it out?"

Dwight smirked triumphantly. "You bet your colorful blouse I did. And I found out _why _you changed your name. Unless you want everyone else to know..." He tapped the files and looked pointedly at the copier before walking back to his desk.

Jim noticed Dwight's proud walk, saw the horrified look on Emily's face, and gave the cameras a "told you so" look as she stomped over to make some copies.

Emily, however, let them sit there. After three minutes passed, Dwight walked over to her desk. "Rockwell. The copies?"

She blinked dumbly at him. "Hmm? Oh. You just said for me to _copy _them, Dwight."

He sighed in annoyance. "You leave me no choice. Attention everyone!" He yelled.

Jim was the only one paying attention, due to doing nothing constructive most of the day.

Emily smirked, and Dwight sighed again before clapping his hands a few times. "Hello! People, over here! Yes, thank you. I have an announcement. We have a stalker in our midst!"

* * *

Everyone immediately looked towards the annex, and the Indian chick huffed. "Not _me_, you jerks!"

Dwight pointed at Emily, who jumped a little. "THIS is the stalker!"

"Emily, I'm flattered, but that should probably be brought to corporate's attention.."

Dwight held up a hand. "Michael, it's not _you_ she's stalking."

She gave the cameras a look as if to say "This WOULD happen to me".

Emily stood up, deciding she didn't want to let Dwight have the satisfaction.

"Actually, it's not anybody around here. Not even in Scranton."

She sighed. "When I was about sixteen, I got charged for...sorta sneaking onto Justin Timberlake's tour bus."

* * *

The office immediately started buzzing, and Jim gave the camera his signature Jim Look.

"That's actually kind of cool. I used to fantasize about doing that," a brunette admitted with a chuckle.

Emily beamed. "Thanks."

"I'm Karen."

She gave her a half-wave. "Emily!"

The Indian chick rushed over. "Ohmigod, you _have _to tell me how you pulled it off! I was thinking of doing the same thing with Ciara during her tour this summer and steal some souvenirs!" She said in an excited rush, then extended her hand.

"I'm Kelly. Kelly Kapoor."

"Uh..Emily. Well, it was kind of hard at first..."

**

* * *

**

_**Camera plays footage of Kelly and Emily talking animatedly. Jim and Karen are heading for the elevator together, and the other office members are following suit. Dwight is still at the receptionist desk, mouth agape.**_

**Michael, OFF-CAMERA:**

**Well, we learned something quirky about our new receptionist today. While it was morally wrong, it was impressive nonetheless. I've had dreams of doing the same thing during one of Fergie's tours..**

**Switches to ON-CAMERA:**

_Are you disappointed she wasn't stalking you?_

**(Laughs anxiously) Why would that...be disappointing? Heh... (Stares off into space before clicking tongue) She's a good receptionist.**

**

* * *

**Ha...that takes guts to sneak onto a tour bus, and believe me, it ain't easy.

At least, that's what i assume :D

Review!


	3. Emily's Sanity, NEH's, and Ditching

Wow, two chaps in one day.

I'm so proud of myself :D

This one's probably not too good, but i wanted to do it, so NEH.

...That's actually a funny reference.

Anyway! Enjoy. :)

**

* * *

**

**Jim: Well. Emily was outed as a former crazed fangirl. So, I won the bet. Now it's Monday, so I _should_ be getting my money today...**

**(Camera zooms out to show Emily in the other seat, rifling through her bag) **

**Emily: Aw, c'mon, Jim! Do you _really_ need the money?**

**Jim: A bet's a bet, Rockwell.**

**Emily: (Huffs, head still down, still looking through her bag) I think my personal humiliation is rewarding enough!**

**Jim: (Rolls eyes) Yes. Making Dwight look like an idiot and getting on good terms with everyone in the office, all due to successfully stalking Justin Timberlake. God, this must be so traumatic for you. I think you should seek counseling. In fact, we should consult Michael about this!**

**Emily: (Ignoring the counseling jab) I did not STALK him! I snuck onto his bus and got him to autograph my shirt, that's all!**

**Jim: (Gives the camera guy a skeptical look, then looks at Emily) Really, that's all you got out of it? Well, besides a mark on your permanent record.**

**Emily: (Slows down in her search for her wallet, thinking) Hmm...Well, actually, I take that back. I stole one of the towels he used after the show. (Gets a far-off look in her eye) Matter of fact...it might still have his sweat on it. Huh. I should sell it on Ebay!**

**Jim: (Gives the camera a Jim Look)**

**Emily: (Evil glint in her eyes, she stares at Jim with an evil smile) Hey. Jim.**

**Jim: (Stares back)...Why're you looking at me like that?**

**Emily: (Leans over to whisper something in his ear)**

_Hello? Camera guy's still here, you know. Care to share?_

**(Ignoring the camera guy, she continues whispering. When she pulls back, Jim sits there for a minute, calculating. Finally, he makes a clicking noise with his tongue.)**

**Jim: Emily, I do believe there's hope for you. That's so stupid, it just might work.**

**Emily: (Pumps fist) YES!!**

_What might work?_

**(Ignoring the camera guy, they both jump out of their seats and leave the Interview Room, talking quietly as they shut the door behind them.)**

_(Camera jerks upwards, and the blinds are opened. Through the lens, we see Jim and Emily at their respective desks. Jim is staring at the ceiling, contemplating, and Emily seems to be doodling on paper.)_

_...WHAT might work?_

* * *

Their original plans had been a bit more impressive, but Emily was still pleased with the outcome.

A few minutes before lunch break, she dialed Michael's office.

"What's the scoop, Emma-bee?"

_Emma-bee? Something must be done..._

"Hi, Michael. Listen, Jim says he needs to talk to you about something important. He's on the other line. Should I patch him through?"

"Sure!"

"Righto."

She did so, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Jim talked to him via phone. After a few minutes, her _own _phone rang. "Dunder Mifflin, this is Emily."

"This is your awesome boss, Michael Scott, speaking," he said in an official (and extremely weird) voice. He laughed to himself, then took a breath before continuing in his normal voice.

"I would like to see you and Jim in my office. There's something serious we need to discuss."

Emily pretended to be surprised. "..Oh. Okay."

She hung up the phone, heading for Michael's office. Emily and Jim exchanged a smirk before she knocked on the door.

"Enter!"

* * *

Michael looked quite grave as he gestured to the seats in the room. "Sit."

He laced his fingers together, looking between them. "Eminem, it has been brought to my attention that you might still have...certain _impulses_ towards Justin Timberlake."

Emily blinked. "Whatever do you mean?"

Jim held up a finger. "I got this. Hey, Emily."

"Yes Jim?"

"How well do you know Justin Timberlake?"

Emily laughed anxiously. "Oh, a bit well. Actually, I'm not at liberty to say.."

Michael leaned forward in his seat eagerly. "I assure you, Eminem, nothing you say in this office will be used against you for as long as you work here."

She smiled brilliantly at him. "Oh, Mr. Scott, that means so _much_ to me! You see, I've been _dying_ to get it out there. I'm actually _really_ good friends with him! Ever since I snuck on his tour bus. He slipped his number in the towel I stole...we've been in touch ever since!"

Her voice started to break, and she even managed to get herself on the brink of tears. "You have no _idea_ how _hard_ it is! All my friends LOVE Justin...and we would be talking about him, but I could never share the details of how well I know him...If I did, it would be anarchy. _Anarchy_, I say!"

She wiped at her eyes. "Sorry," she said with a sniffle.

Jim nodded sympathetically, patting her shoulder. "Let it all out."

He looked at Michael, who was totally eating it up. "So, you see, she has a _serious_ problem. I know a therapist who deals with this kind of thing all the time. My sister had the same condition. Do you think I could take her today during the lunch break?"

Michael waved them off. "Take as much time as you need. Take all day, if you need to!"

They both stared at him. "Really?" Emily asked, dumbfounded.

He patted her head as he stood up, showing them to the door. "Eminem, your mental state is the most important thing right now."

She nodded, smiling gratefully. He must have found his favorite nickname for her for the time being. "Thanks so much, Michael!"

When he thought she was out of earshot, he exchanged a chuckle with Jim. "She's freaking _psychotic_ over the guy," he stage-whispered. "Get her help soon. We _need_ a receptionist. A sane one, preferrably."

"Will do, sir."

And they were home free. As soon as they were one floor lower in the elevator, they busted out laughing.

"That was _awesome_!"

* * *

They went to grab some lunch; the first time she had actually eaten during her lunch break.

She kept forgetting to grab something to eat on her way to work in the morning, and the phones were always the busiest during her break, so she never had enough time to go back for it.

"I gotta admit, you almost had _me_ convinced you were psychotic."

Emily popped a fry into her mouth, then shrugged. "Eh, I used to be in commercials as a kid. I wish I still did that...it paid good money. Well, for my parents, anyway."

He smirked. "Don't tell Michael, he might show off his improv techniques. Or worse...take you to his improv class."

Emily laughed. "Noted."

"So. Why're you working here, Rockwell?"

"What do you mean? _Everyone _aspires to be a receptionist in Scranton, Pennsylvania."

"Oh, right, my bad. C'mon, seriously, why?"

She sighed, twirling another fry in her ketchup. "Seriously? There's not much left out there for college dropouts these days."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "You're a college dropout? _You_?"

She raised her eyebrows as well. "Why are you so surprised?"

"You don't _seem_ like a college dropout."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Oh. You must be a college grad." He grinned smugly. "With flying colors."

She waved him off. "Yeah, and you're stuck in the same dead-end job as me, a college dropout. So _neh_."

"Neh?"

"Yes, NEH. Means 'in your face', or 'so there'. Spelled N-E-H."

"Can you use that in a sentence, please?"

"The georgous, witty, intelligent college dropout finally got her point across to the oaf sitting across from her, concluding it with a rather loud 'NEH'," she replied with a smug grin.

"Oh. Thanks for clearing that up." Jim glanced around, looking at the fellow customers. "Hey, do you know where this georgous, witty, intelligent dropout chick is? I'd love to meet her."

Emily narrowed her eyes and threw her straw paper at him.

**

* * *

**

**Emily:**

**(Looking at footage. It shows them practically sprinting through the parking lot. Another clip shows her and Jim dueling with their straw paper, and the customers behind their booth eyeing them as if they had totally lost it.) You guys are _good_!**

_We've had two seasons to practice._

**Oh.**

_Seriously, watch those tapes. Anyway. How was ditching work?_

**(Grins) Fine. I just kinda wish we could've saved Karen. **

_**More Footage is rolled of Dwight constantly interrogating Karen of their whereabouts, since she knew them both.**_

**(Grin turns into mischievous smirk) We plan on somehow getting _her _in on it, too. I mean, it's only fair, right?**

_You do realize Jim and Karen are dating, right?_

**(Nods quickly) Oh, yeah. _Duh_. I'm not clueless to office relationships around here. For instance. You have Jim and Karen, obviously. And of COURSE Kelly and Ryan...she told me all about it on the way to my car. And I do mean ALL about it.. (Shudders at the memory, then looks at camera man curiously) Why?**

_Well, since you went on a date with Jim and all.._

**(Scoffs) You camera people. It wasn't a date. I was starving and refused to go any further until I ate something. **

**(Glances through the blinds, making sure Jim is out of ear shot. He is currently trying to make copies of something, but appears to be having trouble.)**

**(Grins mischievously) I'm hoping to use that "date" as an excuse not to give him the twenty bucks, since I paid for half of it. Maybe he'll lose interest!**

**(Expression changes from cheerfully hopeful, to thoughtful, and then to comically dull) He's not gonna forget about it until I pay him, is he?**

_(Camera moves left and right, meaning "No") Not likely._

**(Sighs and droops) Thought not. Dammit.**

* * *

Well, that's all for today! My medicine for this stupid virus is startin' to kick in, so I'm off to bed.

But still feel free to review!

Do you get the NEH thing earlier now?

That was my totally pathetic attempt at humor.

I'm just gonna walk away in shame now.

Bye! :P


	4. Gossip and the CIA

Wow, that's a good amount of reviews! haha i dunno how good this chapp is, i just kinda wrote it out of nowhere. But now I'm better!

Yay!

Well, enjoy :)

* * *

THREE WEEKS LATER...

_**Michael:**_

**It's safe to say everyone knows about Emily now...Even the ones in the back. This is...odd.**

_Isn't it normal for everyone to know the receptionist?_

**(Scoffs) Are you NEW here?? I mean, seriously. It's certainly not normal _here_. I mean, Pam was here for at least two months before everyone in the office knew her full name, reason for being here, and favorite color. (Throws up hand) Even longer in _Creed's _case, but he's practically dead anyway, so he doesn't count.**

_

* * *

_

_**Kelly:**_

**That new receptionist...is a _genius_. She taught me everything I might need to know when preparing for an assault on Ciara's tour bus. I've studied maps of the bus, I've noted its weakest points, all my gear's ready and waiting... **

**(blows hair out of her face and giggles) It's gonna be epic. I'm hoping to convince Ryan to come, so after we can have hot, steamy-**

_

* * *

_

_**Ryan:**_

**(Totally sarcastic) Let me just personally thank the receptionist for helping Kelly commit a felony. Or..several.**

**(Thinks for a minute, then grins slowly) Wait a minute. I take back my sarcasm..If Kelly goes to jail, I'm home free, dude! (Sighs happily) Ahhh. Thank you, Emily. **

_

* * *

_

_**Phyllis:**_

**Of course I've met the receptionist. Sweet little thing. Although, I don't think she knows what she's getting herself into. Rumors spread like wildfire around here, and with her hanging out with Jim, Karen, and the warehouse guys a lot...I dunno..**

_

* * *

_

_**Dwight:**_

**What do I think of Emily Rockwell?! I think she's got a whole other thing coming if she thinks she can outsmart me!**

_But...hasn't she played several pranks on you already?_

**(Glares) ...She can't ALWAYS outsmart me. In fact, Rockwell hasn't outsmarted me at all! This is all part of my diabolical plan. I swear by it.**

_

* * *

_

_**Kevin:**_

**Maybe Jim just has a thing for receptionists... **

**(Whispers to camera) I hear he's got Karen AND the receptionist chick in the sack. (Shakes head in awe) I don't know how he does it...**

_You...DO know Jim and Karen are going out, right?_

**(Scoffs) Your point being? Screw you guys, I _applaud_ Jim. (Claps twice happily for emphasis and snickers rather child-like)**

_

* * *

_

_**Stanley:**_

**By far she's my favorite co-worker. Why? She leaves me alone, keeps all Dwight's energy on the other side of the office, sometimes makes coffee runs, and has on more than one occasion forged Michael's signature so we could leave earlier.**

_Didn't Pam do that, too?_

**(Stares at camera as if that was the dumbest statement ever) ...Yeah. But Pam didn't leave me alone ALL the time. **

_

* * *

_

_**Jim:**_

**Yeah, I've heard the rumors. Actually, I think we all have. Kevin applauded me about two minutes ago...I can only imagine what he meant by that..**

**(Stares into space, then shudders and stares at camera questioningly) I wonder how long it'll take Michael to do something about the rumors when he founds out they're about Rockwell...and have absolutely _nothing_ to do with him.**

_

* * *

_

_**Karen:**_

**Do I feel jealous toward Emily? Of course not! Not only do Jim and I have an awesome relationship, but Emily has a boyfriend. So...No, I don't feel threatened. Actually, I feel a little bad. I've heard the weirdest rumors in this office in the past few weeks than I _ever _heard at Scranton. **

**Or..anywhere for that matter. Except MAYBE high school...**

_

* * *

_

_**Creed:**_

**We have a new receptionist? What happened to Sam?**

_You mean Pam?_

**...Yeah, that one.**

_She married Roy, the warehouse guy..? _

**(Nods slowly, obviously clueless to all of this) ...Oh. Yeah.**

_

* * *

_

_**Emily:**_

**(Cheerful) Y'know, I really don't mind the rumors. If you think _these_ are bad, you should've heard the rumors I heard in my high school.**

**(Shrugs) Besides. I get paid to do nothing but pull pranks, make a few copies, talk on the phone, play around on the computer, and have a few coworkers spread some gossip and inside info on some cool upcoming bar events, _right _in front of me.**

**Life is good. (Grins)**

* * *

Emily smirked as Dwight started walking towards her desk, searching for his mail.

Right as he walked up, she hit "PRINT" on her computer, and folded her arms across the desk before looking up at him cheerfully.

"How can I be of assistance, Dwight?"

Dwight shifted his eyes a couple times, carefully surveying her desk. "Is there any mail for me?"

Emily made weird humming noises while rifling through the mail and picking his out, then handed it all over.

He spastically rifled through it, then huffed. She raised her eyebrows. "Something wrong?"

He sighed in disappointment. "No. It's probably just-"

The machine started printing her document, and Dwight's eyes immediately shifted to the paper.

Emily pretended to be surprised. "Oh, look at that. Must be getting a fax...That's weird. Usually they've all come in by now.."

Dwight practically threw himself into the air, flipping over her desk. Everyone glanced up at the resounding _**THUD**_, and Dwight quickly shot up and brushed himself off.

He lunged spastically for the paper, and Emily simply wheeled over and plucked it out of the machine. "Oooh, I wonder what _this _is!"

Dwight towered above her. "Hand it over, Rockwell."

Emily snapped her fingers at him. "Ah-ah-AH! I don't know whose it is. Confidentiality is key when it's concerning people's mail, Dwight."

She then straightened the paper and cleared her throat professionally. "Ahem. Received from the Office of Public Affairs. Washington, DC. 20505-0001. And the number is (703) 482-0623. Mr. Dwight Schrute-"

Dwight snatched it out of her hand. "Hey! Get your paws off my fax, Rockwell."

Emily scoffed. "You act like it's a debriefing from the CIA or something."

He eyed her suspiciously and went back to his desk.

Karen looked over at her questioningly; Emily smirked and nodded slightly. As expected, she snickered, shook her head, and resumed typing her report.

The camera man stealthily walked behind the receptionist. He zoomed in as she saved the document, closed it, closed Google Earth down, and opened up another game of Solitaire.

_**

* * *

**__**Emily:**_

**For a few days now, I've had Dwight convinced the CIA's trying to contact him. (Smirks impishly) I even looked up the address and everything on Google Earth today.**

**I'm fricking COMMITED, dammit.**

**(Sighs happily) Ah. Screwing with Dwight's head is so entertaining. And unbelievably time-consuming! Then again, for about eight hours a day, I'm practically dead to the world, so...it balances out. (Beams)**

**

* * *

Well, i guess it isn't too bad!**

Yes, i actually DID look up the address to the CIA. However, for national security purposes, i jumbled the actual numbers, so dont get Cuh-Razy on me.

:)

I wouldnt recommend calling that muber, by the way. Either it's out of service, or you'll be arrested for dialing an important phone line with no legitimate cause. Your call.

Review!


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